Once Upon a Matchmaker by Marie Ferrarella

they’re working properly, they can be extremely efficient, but when they’re not…” He allowed his voice to trail off.
    She picked up his meaning immediately. “It’s like that old nursery rhyme about the little girl, that goes, ‘When she was good, she was very, very good, but when she was bad, she was horrid.’”
    Micah brightened. “Exactly. There’re people who can make their computers tap-dance and sing. I feel victorious if I can just get mine to work properly.” He realized that she was looking at him intently as he talked. So much so that he felt the attorney was practically looking right into him. “What?”
    She was just trying to get a feel for him, for what he was thinking. She wanted to be able to read him easily. For that she would need his cooperation—and to build up some trust. The latter was a two-way street.
    “You realize that anything you say to me is going to be kept strictly confidential.” It was a given, but it didn’t hurt to make sure that it was understood.
    “I’m aware of that feature, yes.”
    “And that you have to be completely honest with me,” she emphasized. As she spoke, her voice gained in passion. “If I find out that you’re not, that you’ve been lying to me—for whatever reason,” she stipulated, “I will drop you like a hot coal and remove myself as your attorney from your case so fast that your head will spin, possibly for days.”
    “That creates quite an image,” he told her.
    Micah understood why the woman had to say that, although he didn’t particularly like the fact that she seemed to believe him capable of lying to her.
    Still, she didn’t really know him, right? Didn’t know that he prided himself on being a man of integrity. Plenty of liars out there, both men and women. There was no stamp on his forehead, informing her that he was exempt from that.
    He cut her some slack.
    “I don’t lie,” he told her matter-of-factly.
    She nodded. She intended to believe him—until given proof otherwise.
    “Good to know.” Tracy got back to asking her questions. “Did the person who discovered the breach tell you anything else? Like who he thought you were selling those secrets to?” It would be nice to have a name or a face to put on the nebulous “enemy.” It made her fact checking easier.
    “No, all I was told was that the contents of my laptop had been breached and that I was on restricted duty pending an investigation into the matter—starting immediately. That was on Friday,” he told her. “In their world, I’m guilty until proven innocent.”
    And she could see how much that was really bothering him. His reputation meant something to him. So did being brought up on charges of treason. Not exactly a walk in the park, was it?
    “I know that,” she said.
    This next part would sound hokey to her, but he didn’t care. It was how he felt and she needed to know that, too.
    “Okay, well, I also want you to know that I love my country and that I would never do anything to compromise it in any way or to make my sons ashamed to call me their father.”
    He said it with such feeling that she was moved just listening to him. He meant every word, she could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice. He was a man of integrity.
    She believed him.
    That made things easier for her. She could passionately defend someone she believed in. That he sounded sincere was a huge plus, as well. If this wound up going to trial, his appearance—as long as the jury was made up of more women than men—could only help them. It was easier to convict an unattractive person than an attractive one—as long as the latter didn’t smirk, and she doubted that Micah could, even on a dare.
    Nodding absently at his remark, she looked down at the napkin she’d unfolded and had been making notes on. “Well, I seem to have run out of napkin space, so why don’t we stop here for tonight.” It wasn’t really a question, more like a rhetorical suggestion.
    Tracy rose to